


Lines

by Ophelia_Tagloff



Series: Ordinary Days [2]
Category: Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Anal Play, Anger, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Oral Sex, Playful Sex, Rimming, Roughness, Water Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-30
Updated: 2014-09-30
Packaged: 2018-02-19 08:55:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2382437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ophelia_Tagloff/pseuds/Ophelia_Tagloff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tom is having trouble learning his lines. Can OFC help him lighten up</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lines

**Author's Note:**

> This one shot is part of the Ordinary Days Collection and is based on the characters from Truth or Dare.

"Shit! Fuck! God damn it!"

 

I looked over the edge of my laptop at Tom, who was stalking up and down the hallway, muttering to himself.

 

He strode back toward the kitchen and I returned to my typing. I could hear him speaking lowly, pausing, continuing. He appeared at the mouth of the hallway again, his eyes unfocused and searching.

 

He ran his hands through his hair. “Fuck. Cocksucking whore.”

 

I peeked at him over my laptop again and bit back a smile, “Already with the dirty talk? I’m not even warmed up yet.”

 

He shot me a warning glance and turned on his heel, pacing back down the hall.

 

I stilled my hands on the keyboard and listened. He was back to reciting lines as he walked. He stopped moving and speaking and I knew it was coming.

 

"Ugh! Fucking hell! Jesus!"

 

I giggled to myself.

 

"That’s not fucking helping," Tom called from the hall.

 

"Oh, relax. It’s fine," I said, still grinning.

 

He reappeared in the living room, looming over me as he stood by the sofa.

 

"No it’s not fucking fine. I’ve been at this all morning and I can’t get it sorted. The read-through is Monday."

 

"Tom, it’s Saturday. You have the rest of today and all day tomorrow. It’s a read-through. You take your script with you and read through it with the rest of the cast.”

 

"I wouldn’t expect you to understand." He stalked away, taking a deep breath and starting the scene again, "Fuck!"

 

I craned my neck to look down the hall, “I can run lines with you if you think it’ll help.”

 

"No. Thank you," he said shortly.

 

"Well, you don’t have to be a little bitch about it," I mumbled to myself.

 

"I heard that. Darling.”

 

"I wasn’t trying to keep it from you. Sweetheart.”

 

Tom harrumphed and resumed his pacing. More lines muttered. Followed by the inevitable, “God. Fucking. Damn it.”

 

"Tom?" I called to him.

 

No response.

 

"Tom."

 

"What?" he enunciated clearly. A little too clearly.

 

"Come here and take a break. Sit with me for a little while," I put my laptop on the coffee table and patted the cushion next to me.

 

"No."

 

No?

 

I got up and walked down the hallway. Upon seeing me, Tom stopped mid-stride, no doubt expecting me to confront him. He stood with his arms at his sides.

 

"Pardon me, I’m going to start the kettle," I slid past him, my side brushing against his front.

 

He watched me make my way into the kitchen.

 

I turned back to look at him, only to be greeted with his retreating figure, stomping off toward the living room.

 

I chuckled to myself. With two artistic temperaments sharing this flat, there was occasional work drama. Tom would often rub my feet as I stared silent at the ceiling, unraveling a particularly sticky plot. Although I’ve never claimed to be an actor, running lines with Tom was common.

 

Filling the kettle with water, I smiled to myself. The boy needed to release some tension.

 

"Fuck!" he groused from the living room. He walked quickly to the kitchen, appearing in the doorway. Opening his mouth as if to speak, his eyes caught sight of some invisible thought, and with that he turned and stomped away again, muttering.

 

"Crazy man," I chuckled to myself, turning my attention to the sink, wetting a cloth and wiping the counter with the water still running.

 

"Oh, I’m sorry," Tom sneered. He had somehow made it to the kitchen again, "am I bothering you?"

 

I laughed lightly, “No, not at all. It’s kind of adorable, actually.”

 

His face remained stoic, staring down at me.

 

I turned to face him, “Oh, please. I know this part is important to you, but you must relax. It’s the weekend.”

 

"I can’t relax if I can’t get these lines down. I told you, I’ve been at it all morning," he gestured widely with his long arms.

 

I rinsed the rag and sprayed the sink clean. I teased him, making puppy eyes and giving him a cheeky wink, “Should I get the Hobnobs? Or should I skip that and just get on my knees?”

 

He groaned and turned to leave the room again.

 

"Tom. Tom!" I called after him, "Jesus. I was kidding. Come on…"

 

He waved his hand behind his head at me, a dismissive gesture. Without thinking, I pulled the hose sprayer attachment from the spigot.

 

"Come on," he was a few feet away from me. I pointed the faucet hose at his lower back and pressed the lever soaking his white shirt with a quick burst of water.

 

He stopped short, and slowly turned his head to one side, his jaw angled sharply.

 

"What did you just do?"

 

I hitched up an eyebrow and smiled, unwilling to be intimidated, “I believe I just got your attention, sir.”

 

The sink still flowing, he turned to face me and took a step. “I’m not going to play these games with you, darling.”

 

"You. Need. To. Fucking. Relax." I spoke slowly, punctuating the end of my statement with a spritz of water aimed directly at the area where chest met belly.

 

I let this spray linger, and he couldn’t help but lamely look down at the spray hitting his shirt, making it transparent. The water dripped down his front and splatted onto the tiled floor.

 

He glanced up at me and glowered, “I think you’re enjoying this.”

 

"Oh. Believe me I am." I grinned, challenging him.

 

He sighed, “Well then, we’ll see how you like it.”

 

He took off after me and I bolted just as fast around the island and out of the other door to the open kitchen. Tom slipped on the small puddle I had made and lost his balance. I glanced over my shoulder and saw him right himself, reaching up to slap the lever cutting off the faucet. His eyes were trained on me. He squinted and licked his lips.

 

I took a sharp right and ran into the bedroom, catching my breath and looking wildly around for a decent place to escape him, more to keep the game going than anything.

 

His footsteps bounced evenly up the hall, he wasn’t really even trying now, “It’s not that big of a flat, darling. I don’t know where you expect to run to, unless you head down the fire escape.”

 

I looked to my right and spied the master bathroom door. I tiptoed over and pulled it almost closed behind me. I looked around at my options, before finally choosing the shower. Opening the glass door, I cringed at the squeak.

 

I pressed myself into the far corner and grabbed the removable shower head for good measure. M other palm was at the ready on the shower knob.

I didn’t have to wait long. Tom pushed the bathroom door open wide and scanned the room for a quick moment before his eyes met mine and he smirked.

 

"Oh you’re making it too easy, darling," he smiled darkly as he sauntered over to the shower door, opening it and stepping inside.

 

I squeezed further into the corner and smiled, eyes round, “Don’t do it. I’m armed.”

 

He glanced at the shower head I was brandishing and leaned over me, his forearm resting on the shower wall above my head.

 

He leaned close to my ear, “You don’t scare me.”

 

I turned the knob, letting the water blast him in the chest. Bringing one hand up to shield my face, I angled the spray up to his chin. Tom turned his face and brought both hands up to block the water. He deflected it, soaking my hair and blouse.

 

I screwed my eyes shut and lowered the stream of water, determined to soak him. Now that he could see clearly, he easily twisted the shower head in my fingers, pointing it at me.

 

"Stop it, Tom!" I sputtered.

 

"Not on your life," he laughed, his tongue peeking out between his teeth.   
I grabbed for the shower head and he pulled it just out of my reach, I turned my head to avoid being sprayed in the face. I reached blindly to grip the sprayer and Tom caught my wrist, pinning it above my head.

 

He looked down at me solemnly and dripping wet, but his eyes were sparkling with mischief, “Say you’re sorry.”

 

I squirmed, trying to free my arm, “What the hell for?”

 

"For being mean to me."

I giggled, but tried to look indignant, “You had it coming.”

 

I reached for the shower head with my free hand. He caught that wrist easily as well - damn him - bringing both wrists up high. Water ran down my blouse, already rendered nearly transparent. His eyes dropped to view how the soaking fabric contoured my curves and he exhaled, his eyes darting from the dip of my cleavage to the press of my nipples through the thin layers of fabric.

 

He held my wrists in one long-fingered hand and I wriggled, trying to get away.

 

"I don’t know why you keep trying to grab for this, love," he said sadly, spraying me across my chest and belly, "I can’t get any more wet."

 

He licked his lips and bit the lower one, releasing it slowly, he held my gaze.

 

"You on the other hand, I think you can get more..wet." 

I rolled my eyes at him, “You aren’t serious.”

He raised both eyebrows and trailed the spray down my torso, pressing it tight against my sex. He angled it up, the water pulsing against my outer lips, under skirt and through my knickers.

"How does that feel?" he muttered.

"Wet."

He tutted his tongue at me, “So sarcastic today. I’m afraid you need to be taught a lesson.” 

"And you’re the one to teach me, I imagine?" The water was still rushing over my cunt, dripping fast down my inner thighs. I looked at his face, hair slicked back, drips gathering into little rivulets that made their way down his neck. 

His eyes lingered on my lips, “Yes.”

He pulled the thin crotch of my panties aside and turning the spray around, split my cunt with his finger, finding me warm and slick.

"Oh, darling, don’t tell me. You like it when I’ve got you pinned up against the shower wall. Don’t you?"

"You know I do."

He smiled and popped up both eyebrows, “Oh I know. Now be a good girl and spread your legs for me.”

Tom released my wrists and swatted my ass softly before working my dripping knickers down. Widening my stance, I put a foot flat on the shower seat. He gathered my skirt up in a fist and held it against my lower belly, pressing me back into the cool wall.

The mischievous glint in his eye returned as he let the water spray up the tender flesh of my inner thigh. He was still dripping himself, he tee-shirt clinging to him with each roll of muscle. My eyes skated hungrily across his chest as a grabbed fistfuls of the soaked fabric and then fluttered closed as he angled the spray to pelt my open center.

I bucked against him as streamed against my clit and Tom chuckled low in his chest, “Oh this is going to be beautiful. Hold on to me, love. I’m going to make you cum hard and fast.”

He danced his fingers lower and spread me open to him, then wasted no time at all in holding the shower head close to my sex. The stream of water pounded against my clit, and I called out.

"Jesus! What are you doing?" I clawed at his wet shirt and bent my head to his chest.

"Getting your attention," he smirked down at me, "now give me your mouth."

I raised my head and he bent his lips to meet my own. His leg wedged against my raised thigh, holding me open, even as I struggled to close my legs against his onslaught. His fingers kept me pried apart, exposed to him as I writhed to get away from the intense stimulation. Or to increase it. At that point I wasn’t sure. 

Tom kissed me forcefully, his ardor rivaling the mounting tension in my lower belly. The warm water rushed between our bodies - his still fully clothed - down my standing leg. He suckled my bottom lip, scraping his teeth over it. 

He broke our kiss and whispered, his lips brushing mine as he spoke, “And how do you like this, love? Because you are fucking exquisite all dripping wet and grabbing at me when you’re close to cumming.”

I gave him a wild-eyed silent moan in answer and arched against him hard as he brought the spray directly against the head of my clit, pressing a button on the device that turned the steady spray into short pulsing bursts.

"Oh my god. Tom!" I cried, scratching against his shoulders, trying to find something solid to hold onto as I fell. The tension in my body centered solely in the walls of my sex, tightening to the point that they seemed to be trying to turn me inside out.

True to his promise, he held the spray there, pummeling straight onto my clit until I ran into my orgasm head first, collapsing against his taut chest as my thighs shook with the effort to remain standing. The spasms washed over me next, each wave more pronounced at my body squeezed and released around the jets of water.

At last I was still. Tom smiled down at me and exhaled as I raised my head, completely spent. 

"Fucking exquisite," he repeated at a whisper, then cleared his throat, "I hope you learned your lesson."

"Yes," I smiled, still woozy from my almost painful release, "Every time I torment you to the point of exasperation, you’ll pin me to the wall and make me cum."

Tom laughed, “It does seem that way doesn’t it?”

He reached behind me to turn off the water and placed a soft kiss on my open mouth, “Let’s get out of these wet things, shall we?”

Stepping out of the shower, he offered my his hand and pulled my soaked dress over my head, tossing it on the shower floor, to be laundered later. He wrapped a white towel around me and tucked it over itself between my breasts. His wet clothing joined mine and he began to dry himself, his back to me. 

I stood behind him, snaking my hands round his waist and pulling him against me. I caught his gaze in the large mirror and very purposefully traced my fingers down the line of hair that peppered the flesh between his navel and the darker curls surrounding his very hard cock.

I palmed both of his slim hips and grazed my nails over the angles were his torso met his runner’s thighs.

"You know I feel sort of bad, actually," I began, "I had wanted to help you relieve some tension, not the other way around."

He smiled but his eyes darkened, “Is that right, love?”

I bit my lower lip and nodded, threading my fingers through the thatch of curls between his hips and tugging gently. He reacted, his ass tightening against my belly and his hips bucking forward. 

I danced my fingers over the shaft of his cock lightly, “Yes, of course it is.”

I slid a soft fist from base to tip and back, watching him watch my hands in the mirror.

"Is this alright?"

He swallowed hard and licked his lips, then brought his brows together and showed his bottom teeth, “Yes, God, yes.”

I lazily slipped my hand back and forth over his hard cock, reveling in his expression. He watched rapt, - pained almost - as I stroked him slowly. His eyes occasionally darting to my face. I brought one hand down to trace the curve of his balls, cupping the in my warm palm before gently giving them a squeeze.

His jaw had gone slack, his taut stomach rippling as his chest heaved, trying to force more friction from my hand. 

"Put your hands on the counter." 

He hesitated a moment, then leaned forward, palms flat on the marble counter top. I slid a flat hand down his back, then flipping it, traced his trim muscles with my knuckles before raking my nails across his ass.

He arched his cock into my fist.

I chewed on my lip and met his hooded eyes as I traced the cleft of his ass with my fingertip. I cupped the head of his cock with my other hand and swirled the tip against my palm, making him slippery with the dripping clear fluid.

I held his gaze, “Is this alright, love?”

"Yes," his eyes dropped shut and he swallowed.

I continued slipping a soft fist up and down his shaft as I kneaded one firm ass cheek then the other. I traced the split of his ass again, pressing just a bit deeper this time. 

He gave a stuttered moan and this time instead of arching forward, pressing his dick into my hand, he moved back against my finger, offering himself to me.

"Oh, Tom," I teased softly, "You like this.”

"God, yes. Fuck."

I placed an open mouthed kiss at the top of his ass, my tongue tracing the twin divots at his lower back. I scraped my teeth over the soft flesh and my hand went lower, cupping his balls from behind, cradling them in my hand and rolling them gently. They pulled tighter against his body and I tugged on them softly.

Tom hissed through his teeth.

I traced little circles with my tongue over his lower back, bringing both hands up to cup his ass, before flicking soft tongue over the topmost part of his cleft. 

Tom’s breath hitched in his chest and his fingers worried the countertop. I dragged the back of my tongue along his warm split before catching the supple flesh of one ass cheek between my sharp teeth.

"Ah!" he grunted.

I chuckled quietly, “Can I keep going?”

His eyes met mine in the mirror, “Do you want to?”

"Yes. Very much."

”Fuck,” he breathed, closing his eyes.

I returned to my work, this time kneeling on the bathmat, I cupped both of his firm cheeks and gently parted them, Tom flexed under my hands, tensing up out of trepidation or excitement, I couldn’t be sure.

I flattened my tongue and licked him long and slow from the soft hairless spot behind his heavy sack past his puckered hole, only to drop to a seated position on my knees and begin again. 

I repeated the pass twice more, hearing him hiss through clenched teeth. Before placing a chaste - considering where I was - kiss on his round cheek and wetting my finger, dragging it over his sensitive hole, pressing gently at rhythm. His eyes were dropped shut, his brow furrowed. his jaw slack.

I dipped my head to allow my tongue to replace my finger, flicking it over the rosy opening, noting how soft, how smooth the skin was, without any flavor, but with his own muskiness, only more concentrated.

Tom moaned low and his thighs tensed, I parted him further and covered his hole with my mouth, lapping at it with a curved tongue. Drawing small circles around the ring. Pressing just the tip of my tongue inside before starting the whole delicious torture again. Lap, trace, lick, dip.

"Fucking Christ," Tom gritted, I dropped one hand to play at his sack again, squeezing, rolling, tracing invisible patterns with my fingers. His nails scraped across the counter. 

"Fuck, I have to cum soon. Your mouth. Oh my god." 

I leaned back to kiss him again, grazing my teeth across his cheek, watching the gooseflesh that spread over his pale skin 

"Do it, then, grab your cock."

Tom righted himself in front of the mirror and gripped his shaft in his long fingers, stroking his cock very quickly, the muscles of his stomach flexing and releasing, the veins on his neck standing in relief. “Get up here, I want to feel you.”

I caught his gaze in the mirror again and shook my head, Parting his cheeks once more, I returned to my happy chore, this time with greater hunger, dipping my tongue into him repeatedly before laving at him from every angle toward center. Drawing secret shapes - circles, swirls, curved lines. Dragging my teeth gently over him. Pressing my flat tongue against his hole. Starting again at the first, this time with more fervor.

"Fuck, Oh God. I can’t. I have to cum." I pressed a pointy tongue against the soft pink flesh, flicking him before pressing again, deeper this time.

I felt his release under my mouth before I heard it, before he announced it with a moan and my name. His muscles tightened and pulsed, tightened and pulsed, and with that he came, the milky white liquid dripping between his fingers and over the pale marble counter.

He rested his hands on the counter again and bent his head. For my part, I rose up behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist in a tender embrace.

"You are bound to kill me, woman."

I smiled, “That was the plan. But again you live to see another day.”

He laughed softly, “Barely.”

"At least you have a clear head to memorize those lines with," I smiled.

"You know what?"

"Hmmm?" I hummed in response.

"I think maybe a nap together first."


End file.
